“What happened?” Fritz asked as they sat at the table. He grabbed the sack he’d dropped earlier from the floor and produced three rolls with meat.
“You have most of it already. Baldair died, I was there.” She stared at the food blankly.
“Eat,” Fritz insisted.
Vhalla forced herself to oblige. “After, it’s just as they say. Aldrik ran, he took me with him. We hid in his room.”
“Did you . . .?” Fritz asked slowly.
“We were a comfort to each other, but not in that way.” Vhalla said firmly, proud she could look her friend in the eye and say it.
“Good.” Fritz seemed equally pleased as he stood. “Try to get some rest. You look dead on your feet.”
“You’re leaving?” She stood also.
“I have to. It’s not good for me to go missing too long. Grahm agreed to be an alibi if I need one.” Fritz gave her a tired smile. “But it’s still not a good idea to push things. No point in rousing suspicions within the Tower.”
“Right.” Vhalla grabbed his hands. “Fritz, thank you, for everything.”
“Of course, Vhal. It will work out, I’m sure it will.” Her friend’s confidence sounded false, but the final squeeze he gave her before leaving certainly wasn’t.
With the metallic sound of the lock sliding back into place, she was alone again in the room. Vhalla sighed heavily. There were books, but she didn’t want to read. There was some kind of closet or storeroom through the other door. But it was dark, and she didn’t feel too inquisitive.
In the end, Vhalla collapsed onto the bed, her face buried in the pillow. But she didn’t cry. She didn’t like feeling isolated and alone. Her mind was already churning with plans for what she could suggest when Aldrik returned.
For the third time in one day, a knock awoke her. The trend was exhausting, and on her way to the door, she peaked out the curtains, discovering it was nearly sunset.
“What is most beautiful just before it dies?” she asked through the door.
There was a long pause. “A rose.”
Vhalla twisted the lock and looked at a familiar set of dark eyes. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Aldrik.”
“Vhalla, we have to go.” His voice was strange, some kind of tension pushing it up an octave.
“What’s happened? Is it your father?”
“It has to do with none of that.” He shook his head. The day competed with itself to get worse. “It’s Victor.”
“Victor?” The world stilled.
“I went to ask him for help and found him gone.” Aldrik cursed. “All the crystals were gone, the notes from when we were boys open on his desk. I think he’s heading for the caverns.”
“He, we were going to destroy them,” she said hastily, hopefully.
“Not from what I read.” Aldrik frowned. “He was lying to you, Vhalla. He wants the caverns for himself.”
“What, no—”
“We have to go stop him,” Aldrik barked roughly.
“What about the barrier?” Vhalla inquired.
“The barrier?”
“The one set up by Egmun, after you . . .” Vhalla danced delicately with her words, suddenly wondering if she had misunderstood Aldrik’s history.
“Victor was trained by Egmun,” Aldrik answered quickly. “They’re both Waterrunners, so I’m certain his magic would be attuned to Egmun’s.”
“What do we do?” Her encounters with the minister had grown stranger and stranger. After Fritz’s cautions and knowing Aldrik’s story, it wasn’t a far leap of logic to think that the Victor had gone off the deep end when it came to crystals. Horror raked itself across her heart. It was her fault; she had handed him the axe.
“We make haste for the caverns.” Aldrik started down the Tower, motioning for her to follow.
She nodded, grabbed a random cloak off a nearby peg, and shut the door behind her. Aldrik made no motion to tell her to lock it, and she completely forgot in her panic. She fell into step behind him, and he didn’t even turn to look at her. At some point, he had found time to fix his hair. She wondered what really had gone on with the Emperor.
No, there were more important things to worry about than Emperors and hair, she reminded herself. Her chest tightened. Victor was headed to the Crystal Caverns with an axe that could sever souls.
ALDRIK’S STEPS WERE fast, and she struggled to keep up. Her feet felt heavy, her mind sluggish with exhaustion and the mental strain of the past few days.
“Wait!” She stopped at the door to her room.
“Vhalla, we don’t have time,” he responded briskly.
“I know, but I will freeze if I go out like this.”
“Quickly,” he begrudgingly agreed.
Vhalla darted into her room and rummaged through things, not caring what fell out of place. Piling on layers, Vhalla was a miss-match of clothing: the gloves that went under her gauntlets, two pairs of socks, a rope belt to secure his oversized pants around her waist.
In her rummaging, Larel’s bracelet fell from its place of honor on the stack of Aldrik’s notes. Vhalla paused, considering taking it, but left it instead. She didn’t want anything happening to the last token from her friend; who knew what would transpire before the dawn.
Vhalla raced down the Tower behind Aldrik once more, throwing her cloak over her shoulders. It had been well over a year since she had last seen her prince as tense and shut-off as he was now, though she could hardly blame him given the circumstances. Two floors down, the door to the vessel room opened, and Vhalla almost ran head first into the Eastern man who emerged.
“Vhalla?” Grahm blinked at her.
“I have to go.” She glanced at Aldrik, who was now ten steps ahead. He did not so much as glance in her direction, simply expecting her to keep pace.
“What? Where? What is it?” He squinted at the prince she followed.
“I can’t-can’t explain.” She took a few steps backward and called over her shoulder, practically running to catch up with Aldrik. “I just have to go.”
A very confused Easterner was left in her wake. Aldrik pulled open one of the outer doors and ushered her inside. Vhalla caught a glimpse of Grahm on their heels as the door closed.
“Vhalla, that—” Grahm called
Aldrik slammed the door and locked it.
“We can’t have distractions,” he cursed gruffly. The doorknob turned as someone tried to open it. Vhalla stared at it uneasily. Aldrik had never met Grahm, she told herself. He didn’t know the Waterrunner pursuing them. “Come.”
He led as they plunged through the palace-side door. They raced through the outer halls, avoiding the major arteries of the palace. Whenever someone would pass by at an intersection, they would duck behind a column or into a doorway to hide.
Vhalla panted softly. They were sneaking, she realized. What had his father told him? What would happen if they were seen? Surely no one would stop them from trying to prevent tampering in the caverns, she insisted to herself. But that also depended on someone being willing to listen to the real reason why they were sneaking off in the night.
The person in the hallway passed, and they were off running again. Vhalla focused on her prince as they spiraled down stairs within an outer wall of the palace. She couldn’t fathom the darkness that was determined to creep back into his mind. There was no doubt in Vhalla’s mind that he considered his current circumstances as some sort of delayed justice, given how his mind worked.
Her chest ached for the man she followed out onto the snowy ground of the stables. They ran through the white moonlight. Colors were bleached from the world, and her toes already felt cold. A stable hand was startled into action by their presence.